


sometimes life just feels off

by itsonlydana



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Klausisthesoberone, Romance, chaotic - Freeform, season two klaus, verydrunkreader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25944010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsonlydana/pseuds/itsonlydana
Summary: After having to pick up his drunk girlfriend from the drunk tank (again), the two finally get to talk about the readers anxiety.++++++++++++“I’m not saying the Beatles are bad, but woah the albums of Queen make the heart beat faster. Hey, don’t look at me like that, I know how dangerous it is to compare the two, so please don’t stone me to death or whatever you’re doing here with people who are telling the truth that nobody should hear.”
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Female Reader, Klaus Hargreeves/Reader
Kudos: 21





	sometimes life just feels off

**Author's Note:**

> another one! Have fun reading this story and don´t hold back with the feedback (positive and/or negative)!

“I’m not saying the Beatles are bad, but woah the albums of Queen make the heart beat faster. Hey, don’t look at me like that, I know how dangerous it is to compare the two, so please don’t stone me to death or whatever you’re doing here with people who are telling the truth that nobody should hear.”

You raised your hands defensively and observed the facial features of your counterpart. It took a moment for his attentive listening to become a confused hesitation. The bushy eyebrows pulled together and he opened his mouth to say something when a voice came from another half of the room: “Let it be crazy-lady! Nobody knows what you’re talking about!”

Outraged, you pushed Luke, the homeless man with the eyebrows that resembled a West Highland White Terrier, aside and stood up from your bed. Halfway up, the bottle of rum was noticeable, your sight was blurred for a second in front of your eyes, and you sat down again on the hard bed, where the world didn't stop spinning. ”Uh, I would kick your ass, but”, a hiccup interrupted you; the smell of the drinks in your stomach rose in your throat and you wrinkled your nose.

´I didn’t know I was a wine drinker, too.´, you thought.

The upcoming desire for discussion was long forgotten, instead, you closed your eyes.  
It wasn’t the first time you had a nap at the Dallas Police Station, and in your everyday life, tonight wouldn’t be the last. If you would tell your 2019-you a year ago that you would have just escaped an apocalypse triggered by the way by your boyfriend’s sister, would have traveled back in time and would have ended up in the middle of a cult meeting of your boyfriend, then yes, your 2019-you would have given you the excursions to the drunk tank.

In half-sleep you heard how the door to the cell was opened; after the third visit you got used to the squeaking of the door, and steps got closer until someone stood at the end of your bed. Suddenly you could feel two nails twisting your toe, and your foot pushed upwards and hit the person.

“Ouch!”

The shrill scream caused you to open your eyes, a smile struck your face. ”Klaus!”  
In your drunk state, you were as unsteady as a ship in the ocean when you jumped up and threw your arms around his neck. Your whole body fell on him, pushed him with you, and he stumbled backward. He struck the bars with his back. Luckily, because your grip loosened and you slipped down his chest. It didn’t even hurt when your butt made acquaintance with the cold stone floor.

“Shall we go home?”

Klaus imitated your smile. “That depends on something darling! Do you want to tell me why I have to pick you up again? Eventually, my money will run out for your bail, and maybe I’ll want to save today.” He entangled his arms in front of his chest, his gaze wandered admonishingly over your now pouting posture.  
“Your sugar mummy left you enough. Besides, I always get you out, do you remember Easter 2018?” Before you could remind him of other examples of his many escapades, you could hear the strangers' annoying voice again: “Shut your mouth crazy-lady! 2018, do you even hear yourself talking? They should lock someone like you away!”

“Now it’s enough.“ you murmured rather to yourself and stood, although still very inclined to the side, up. You wanted to roll up your sleeves when you noticed something: “I lost my jacket!”

Visibly amused by his drunk girlfriend, Klaus laughed. ”It’s just a jacket babe, we’ll get you a new one.”  
“But it was yours!”, you cried out. As before, your desire to slap the stranger was gone with the wind, instead, the anger struck down in grief and tears shot into your eyes. “You gave it to me when I landed here in the middle of the rain and you waited there in the alley. With the jacket.” You couldn’t do anything against the tears, they flowed down your cheeks, on the much too big shirt from Klaus' wardrobe. Your tears, mixed with mascara, left dark spots on the yellow shirt and as the spots became only bigger through your index finger, you burst into a new wave of howling.

“Oh, Darling! Y/N, come here, love.” Through the veil of tears, you saw Klaus squatting in front of you and driving his thumb over your cheeks. From this, he strode to the sides of your face and drew you to him. ”Love, everything is okay, everything is good. We’re going home now, okay? We’ll go home, sleep out your intoxication and look for your jacket tomorrow, otherwise we’ll find a similar one. How does that sound? Do you want to go home?”

It was his gentle voice, in a tone in which he usually spoke to animals or very stupid people, and his compassionate facial expression that made you realize how pathetic you had to look. You’re sitting there, crying and drunk, in a drunk tank in Dallas, Texas. Somewhat mannerless, you pulled your nose up before you let Klaus help you up.

“Let’s go.”

The car ride was one of the most unpleasant rides in a long time, not only because you still didn't tell him why he had to pick you up, but also because you left all your stomach contents on the side of the road five minutes after you had left. Now you squatted in the passenger seat, knees pulled to the chest, and leaned your head against the window. Although the passing landscapes had left you with a growling stomach again, you preferred the seemingly endless fields with one or another isolated farmhouse or forest, rather than the sight of Klaus at the wheel. Every time you looked at him, you felt guilty. You could feel that he wanted to say something, his fingers knocking irregularly against the steering wheel, or he drove through his long hair. It was a miracle that he had not yet addressed it, normally he couldn´t be quiet for this long. Maybe he noticed that something was up with you.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t talk to him, this problem you never had, but something stopped you. You hated it, you knew it didn’t help to drink instead of talking, and yet it was harder than you thought.  
“You know I won’t judge you no matter what it is? It doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, but when you’re ready, I’m there for you, Y/N. No matter what, no matter when.” After looking at you, he put his hand on your bare feet.  
“I know, and I’m very grateful to you for that.“, you answer with a scratchy voice.  
“But?”  
“But?”  
“Your thanks sounded like a thank you, but.”

You shook your head. ”There is no but. I just don’t know how to explain to you what’s going on inside of me when I don’t know it myself. It’s all weird, Klaus.”  
His hand wandered higher up to your ankle, dwelling there and playing with the foot chain he had given you for your birthday. It wasn't expensive, the golden color of the small stars had already begun to disappear and the closure was no longer quite as good as ´closing´ as it was at the beginning. Still, it was the first gift you got from him, and you would stop wearing it.

“Darling, what are you thinking about in that beautiful head of yours?”

“About everything! Nothing, I don’t know!” In the end, you shout frustrated and kick against the glove compartment, which then popped up. Not just one, but three bottles of whiskey were in the compartment you were just trying to grab when Klaus hit you.

"Leave it! You've had enough, and I don't want you to throw up in my car. The alcohol doesn't help you with unclear thoughts."

"You say that? You of all people?", you snort and regret your words instantly. "I'm sorry. See what I mean? I’m crazy!" You could see him swallowing the pain your comment had left behind. It must have hurt him, after all, you had celebrated his first year in sobriety a few days ago. Oh, God, why did you have to hold that against him?

"Why am I like this Klaus? Why do I say such things, hurt you unnecessarily, and flee from my worries with alcohol? I don't recognize myself lately." Fears and thoughts suppressed by alcohol reappeared in you. At the same time, the trembling and up and down tapping of your right leg began. You didn't want to think about why life and you felt like you were at a standstill or about everything being just a little bit too much. You looked up, vulnerability in your eyes. "Help me, Klaus, please help me."

Immediately, Klaus parked the car right outside your front door and slipped his seat backward. After he had indicated to you with a pat on his thighs to come to him, you climbed on his lap. Leaning on his chest, you hid your face in his neck. It calmed you to feel his heartbeat on your hand and to have the sweet smell of him and your cherry shampoo, which he always used, stuck in your nose. With his left hand, he began to caress over your forearms, sometimes with and sometimes without his fingernails. He intertwined his other hand with yours, which did not tap against his heart in the rhythm of his pulse.

“Y/N, sometimes life is not fair, sometimes it feels wrong no matter what you do. Sometimes life just feels off and that’s okay. It’s okay to stop, to breathe. Life offers you so many opportunities; to be overwhelmed is normal. But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m always there for you.” In the last sentence, he clarified every word with kisses on your face. First on your forehead, down to your chin, two on your nose tip, one on your right, and one on your left cheek.

Slowly your leg stopped shaking.

“Next time if you need a break, you have too many worries or you need someone to tell you that everything is fine, come to me love. I know enough ways to distract you.” You smiled sadly and at last, you looked up and right into his deep green eyes. He gently stroked your hair and closed both arms around you, so you were completely pressed on him. You fit together, like key and lock, perfectly created for each other and only complete together. ”It’s going to be alright. I know you probably never thought about ending up here when you spoke to me three years ago, but we have to make the most of it.”

“Even if everyone thinks I’d just made up Queen.“, You breathed in his neck, and his body shook with a laugh. ”Hey, what would five say if I produced all the Queen songs myself before the band even existed? Would that count as a butterfly effect?”

“Butterfly? That would be a whole ass elephant! And five would look at you with his admonishing ’I’m older and smarter than all of you'-look and hold a speech that we would’ve messed up the whole time.” A little quieter and with a broken voice he added: “When he finds us.”

Now it was your turn to breathe a soothing kiss on his soft lips. ”He’ll find us, we’ll find all your siblings, just like my jacket. Such things are never lost forever.” Your fingers danced over his beard, over his temples to his hair. You wrapped some of the velvety curls around your index finger and placed your lips on the now exposed piece of skin next to his ear. “I love you, Klaus.”  
“I love you, too.“

“Ah, and I don’t want to go to the cell anymore”

“No problemo! I´ll just chain you to the bed, oh yes that does sound nice.”


End file.
